


Moments

by Silver Ink (SilverOwlCity), SilverOwlCity



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:10:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverOwlCity/pseuds/Silver%20Ink, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverOwlCity/pseuds/SilverOwlCity
Summary: My collection of Inktober 2019 drabbles.Clearly, I didn't have much time and didn't get to finish most of the prompts.





	1. Ring

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own SPN or the characters in it. I merely enjoy playing with their universe.

Sam had only seen the box once. It had only been a glimpse, but Sam wasn’t stupid. Dean had kept the box in one of his drawers, tucked safely under the shirts inside. As far as Sam knew, the box hadn’t left that spot since he’d watched Dean put it there almost a year ago.

Until now.

Now, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu.

Castiel sat on Dean’s bed – _his _bed – holding the little white box in hand. He stared at it, unblinking. His eyes were red rimmed and heavy, but he wasn’t crying. He looked defeated.

It was the first time he’d been home for longer than a night. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to rest, to process what this might mean.

Sam watched him move to open the box. Watched him hesitate and drop his hand back to his side. He watched as it happened again and again.

He knocked on the doorframe, unable to watch any longer.

Cas looked up, startled, and slipped the still unopened box into his pocket.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” he informed, his discomfort bleeding into his tone.

“Angels don’t need to eat, Sam.” His voice was hoarse with disuse.

Despite the refusal not being explicit, Sam immediately recognized it. He scrambled to find some way to get the angel to join them.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know – I just thought you might, I don’t know, want to join us. I know Jack really wants you to come out with us.”

It was a low blow, but Sam was fairly sure it would work.

Cas paused and reconsidered. He nodded shortly and followed Sam through the halls of the Bunker.

The angel’s hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders slouched – a clear departure form his normal confident demeanor. But Sam could see his hand moving in his pocket, probably playing with the little white box.

Maybe once they found and rescued Dean from Michael, Sam would see the box again. Maybe he’d see it opened. And maybe that would mean they had finally put some use to the little silver band inside.


	2. Mindless

It comes easily now, after months in this place. Using weapons had always been fairly easy for him, but never like this. The knife was an extension from his hand. It moved without resistance, like an extension of his arm.

Sometimes, he thought about what he was doing. How he was so calmly and mindlessly hunting. Surviving. Killing.

He was a machine. He didn’t think – not really. Not about much anyway.

His only thoughts were of Cas. He had to find Cas.

After that? He didn’t know. Maybe they could find some way out. Maybe they wouldn’t and they’d keep killing monsters for all of eternity.

Maybe they’d die.

Maybe Cas was already dead.

He swung his knife forward, decapitating the vamp in front of him, banishing all thought from his mind. He could worry about all that after he'd found Cas.

Now? Now, he was killing to survive without a second thought. For now, he was a mindless machine.


	3. Bait

When they reappeared, the angels were a hot commodity.

They were rare and to kill one was a highly praised accomplishment under your belt. Slowly, though, they became more common until they were almost as normal as a vamp nest.

The Fall had made that even more true.

Over the last nine years, their numbers had dwindled and brought them back to their original rarity.

Sadly, that meant finding Angel Grave would be difficult. But Margo had a plan – and a trap.

The others thought she was insane. To kidnap a Winchester? There were few things that dangerous. It was extremely risky and stupid, but Margo didn’t particularly care.

In fact, kidnapping the Winchester had been fairly easy. A bit of powder in his drink and a hex bag under the chair. He hadn’t passed out until he’d gotten to his car which made it all the easier for her to drive him to the warehouse.

“What do you want?”

The hunter’s voice was calm, but his eyes were burning with fury.

Margo shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Not from you, anyway.”

He shifted a bit, no doubt trying to unravel the knots in the rope he was bound with. Margo continued prepare the spell, not caring about his antics. Her hex bag would ensure the rope didn’t budge.

“If you don’t need me, why am I here?”

It seemed he’d already given up.

“Oh, but I do need you,” she corrected. “I just don’t need anything _from_ you.”

“That makes no sense!”

She could feel the heat of Dean’s glare on her back. Margo shrugged.

“What I need form you, you can’t actually give me.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a fairly simple concept, Dean. You’re bait.”


	4. Freeze

It was cold. Too cold. He could see his breath in the air. Sam and Dean were looking for him. Sam and Dean would find him - eventually.

And if they didn't, he would find them first.

This place was . . . odd. And cold. Too cold. It was unusually light for a place that was nearly pitch black, too.

As far as he could see, it didn't end. Black, empty space for miles and miles. Maybe forever.

Where was he? Where was Sam? Dean?

Why was it so cold?

If he stayed here much longer, he was afraid that he'd freeze to death.

Death.

Was this . . . death?

A cold whisper of the wind brushed past him. It felt odd. Like it - or he - wasn't really there.

A memory suddenly overwhelmed him. Dean smiling brilliantly at him, Sam smiling much softer beside them.

A sharp pain through the chest.

The look on Dean's face was one of horror for a moment before it all faded away.

He was back in the odd place. This place of loneliness. Of death.

He refused to believe it and pushed forward.

He would find Sam and Dean. Or they would find him.

He shivered. It was cold here. Too cold.


	5. Build

Sam doesn't remember his family like Mom and Dean do. He doesn't remember Dad from before. If Dad had been kind or just as ruthless then as he was now. Dad wasn't around when he was younger and Sam sometimes wonders if he was around when Dean was little.

He guesses it doesn't matter because Dean would worship the ground their father walks on either way.

Sam's family was . . . different from the ones he saw on TV. They weren't openly affectionate. They didn't have big holidays or celebrations.

Sam's family didn't feel like he felt family should.

When he went to Stanford, he met Jess. Jess was everything he'd ever wanted in a friend -- let alone a girlfriend.

At one point, he'd added her to the family in his head. He wasn't sure when or why, but he had.

Something that Bobby said a few years later made him think of that again.

Family don't end in blood.

It was something Sam had never given much thought. He didn't have a normal family and that was okay. He didn't feel like he had any family and that was okay too.

Except he did have family.

Bobby was his family. And so was Dean. Jess. Cas. Kevin. Charlie. They were all part of his family.

Sam doesn't remember his family like Mom and Dean do. Because Sam never had that kind of family. He built his own.


	6. Enchanted

Sam couldn't believe what he was seeing. It felt . . . off.

When he'd brought the subject up, the answer had always been a resounding no. Even after they'd moved into the bunker, the answer hadn't change.

"No, Sammy, we are not getting a dog."

So, Sam had let it go. Although he'd been disappointed, he understood where Dean was coming from. Who could take care of a dog if they were always on hunts?

Evidently, he didn't seem to think that was much of a problem now. Not if the dog in his arms meant what Sam thought it meant.

"Dean?" he asked. "Why do you have a bag of dog food?"

Dean scowled. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

Before his brother got the chance to respond, the bunker door opened again. Jack walked in, seeming very excited. The Nephilim was smiling widely.

"Sam, look! Dean and Cas said I could keep them.”

In the boy’s arms was a small husky. The puppy yipped happily at Sam before yawning widely.

“Uh-uh. We said you could keep them if . . .”

The Nephilim dropped his head. “If I don’t go for hunts anymore.”

Sam frowned and looked a Dean with wide eyes. The older hunter nodded calmly, seemingly proud of himself.

“Them?”

Dean sighed and Jack nodded, suddenly seeming more excited again.

“Cas has the others in the car.”

“Others? Jack, how many dogs are you bringing home?”

Jack smiled brightly. “Four.”

“Four? Four dogs?”

“Yeah, Sammy, four husky puppies,” Dean confirmed, voice bordering on harsh.

“Dean –”

“The kid wanted to take them in. I think he can handle it. Besides, we can help him while were here and there are almost always other hunters in the bunker, too.”

Cas walked in through the door, a carrier in one hand and another bag of dog food in the other. His expression gave nothing away about how he felt about this. He set the carrier down on the table and opened it. Three more husky pups scrambled out.

Dean’s hand fell gently on his brother’s shoulder.

“Never thought you’d see the day, huh, Sammy?”

Sam just shook his head.


End file.
